


Outrun This!

by Felix500



Category: Original Work
Genre: Original Character(s), Original Fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:13:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25658764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Felix500/pseuds/Felix500
Summary: A retired stunt-woman gets back into driving in order to help a crew steal some sensitive data from a big medical corporation.





	Outrun This!

Cecilia woke up before her alarm went off. It was 5:32 on a cold October morning. As Cece started her day, she couldn’t help thinking that today she would finally get to cheat death again.  
Cece turned on the old FM clock-radio and tuned in to her favorite classic rock station. She wanted to hear the daily news, but it was too early for the morning DJs to come on. It was still playing the usual round of songs for the late night truck drivers, making their treks on the freeways between the various cities, so there was only the occasional mention of yesterday’s evening news: repeats of the war effort in a foreign country and wildfires that had cut across the more northern sections of the state. Cece let the sound carry through the bedroom and into the kitchen as her sluggish feet dragged their way towards the sink.  
The decor of the room was very plain and clean. The black and white linoleum floor was reminiscent of 1950’s style diners, where Cece loved to hang out when she needed to wind down after an exciting night driving through downtown L.A. As Cece passed the large, hulking beast of refrigerator that stood against the far corner, she saw a tiny bit of her reflection in the shiny metal door. Her legs took a detour in front of the large appliance and made a pit stop. She pushed aside the magnets and scraps of paper that were covering every inch of the refrigerator door.  
Although the metal made her face look dull, Cece could clearly see the face that she had been trying to avoid these past thirty years. She had seen her eyes in the rear-view mirror of the occasional automated car she rode in, but it had been quite some time since Cece had seen her actual self. Immediately, her fingers traced the wrinkles that covered the landscape of her face, going over the shallow lines that had already dug in and wanted to let everyone know just how old she was. Cece looked a lot younger than she actually was and she thanked her good genes daily for not giving her secret away. For the moment, it looked like she was pushing maybe fifty, but her seventieth birthday was looming closer each day. And Cece dreaded having to hit that landmark in a few more years.  
As her hands wandered to her cheeks, they eventually made their way up to Cece’s ears and played with the piercing holes that went through her right ear lobe. One, two, three. Cece had never been one for jewelry, but it seemed like today might be a good day to wear some out. Cece turned her head left and right as she shaped her bushy, wild hair into a tight bun. All of the black and light brown curls she had once had before were now ashen gray and milky white. She pulled the hair tie that was around her left wrist off and twisted it twice so that her mop of hair stayed in place. Cece shook her head and held up her hands in a small “Ta-da!” gesture. “There. That’s better,” she said to the cat-shaped cookie jar that always gave a look like it was judging her.  
Cece coughed a few times, more out of habit than from any illness, and made her way back to the sink. She reached up above her head and opened the wooden cupboard. Her hand batted away the various boxes that were crammed inside and Cece let a few fall to the floor, not caring if a nurse or orderly would have to pick them up later. She smirked to herself at the thought of Brad having to clean the kitchen later.  
“Green tea, chamomile, ginger, sleepytime… who the heck is ‘Earl Grey’?… Ah! Here we go...”  
After a few more minutes of tossing random boxes to the ground, Cece finally took her thermos from the nearby shelf and headed to her bedroom. She listened to the radio more closely as she passed by it to see if anything new had happened yet. The familiar voices of the morning DJs could be heard from the tiny white box and Cece smiled to herself as the “way-too-early-to-be-that-happy” sound of the man greeted her. She could just imagine his female co-host rolling her eyes through her skull, trying not to let her venom be so painfully and obviously heard over the radio waves. Cece turned the tiny wheel on the side to its max volume so that she could hear it from the next room.  
“—a beautiful day in our great city! Gooood Morning, L.A.! Hey. How ya doin’? I missed you. Ladies and gentlemen, I am simply brimming with excitement on this lovely October day. As I’m sure you know, unless you’ve been living under a rock these past few weeks, today is Game Seven of the World Series! And I have every bit of confidence in our boys in blue! In fact, when we asked our listeners, the majority of them said that it would be no contest. This will be the year for sure! And how do I know? Simple! Because the people say so! God, I love democracy.”  
“Yes. God bless this country, Johnny…,” the female DJ’s sarcasm clearly had not yet been subdued by the early morning coffee.  
“That’s right, Mo! God bless us every one in this year of our Lord, two thousand thirteen! Hey, and a quick reminder to everyone who loves this country, God loves you, dear listener! But not as much as I do. As a matter of fact, I know there are a lot of people who are going to be storming the city streets tonight. Whether we celebrate a win, or drown our sorrows in a terrible loss. I just wanna make sure that you all stay safe out there! I couldn’t bear to hear about any of you getting arrested and having a silly, little misunderstanding end up on your permanent record. I, for one, will most likely be standing on top of a cop car, swinging my pants in the air with a traffic cone on my head!”  
“No one wants to hear that. Johnny. Let alone picture it.”  
“Ah, Mo! Always the party pooper. Hey, speaking of records! This next block of rock is brought to you by Lazarus. Curious about your family’s DNA history? Be sure to visit one of their helpful hospitals to find out if you—”  
Cece had almost finished getting dressed when the man and woman started to go to commercial. After getting into the habit of wearing mostly stereotypical “old people” clothes— big sweatshirts that were two sizes too large and pajama bottoms with colorful, but silly designs—Cece felt much better this morning. Refreshed, even. She had chosen black denim jeans with a little bit of a faded look to them and a matching black “Iron Maiden” t-shirt. To hide her rebellious side a little bit, she also wore a dark blue jean jacket with the sleeves rolled up. Now, Cece looked more like a “hip grandma” who led an active lifestyle. Probably a kind lady who spent most of her time out in the garden tending to her vegetables: tomatoes, carrots and such. Cece sat on the edge of her bed, putting on her brown leather ankle boots on as she tried to bring her mind back from wandering.  
Cece got up from her creaky mattress and made her way to the front door. Giving one final look around the drab, dull interior of where she had been cooped up for the past two years, Cece placed her right hand to her lips and blew a kiss goodbye.  
* * *  
A few months ago, Cece had been lying on her favorite lumpy couch, stretching her legs over the armrests. Her bad leg was elevated so that the dull, throbbing pain wouldn’t be as bad. Although she had gotten used to the feeling after thirty years, she didn’t like to be annoyed by it when she was watching a movie.  
“Stop! We’ve got you surrounded!” yelled the man from the television screen. “You park that tin can or I’ll blow you to Hell.”  
“I’d love to see you try,” whispered Cece, eyes locked onto the LED screen. Her hand slowly reached down, fingers searching for a chocolate chip cookie from the cat jar.  
“I’d love to see you try,” repeated the cop, his face giving a devilish grin. Smoke began to billow from the tires as they screeched in defiance of the bad guy’s threat. The Mustang slammed through the henchman’s car, barely missing him when he dove out of the way.  
“You’re crazy!”  
The movie was just getting to the good part when Cece was tapped on the foot. She lifted her head to look at who was bugging her when Cece saw the familiar, toothy smile of Hinata, one of the volunteers at the nursing facility. She groaned while her head fell back on the soft cushions.  
“Good morning, Miss Cecilia.” The young Japanese man waved at her, despite the obvious show of resistance from the old woman. No matter how much Cece poked fun at him for being too optimistic, he would always try to cheer her up, despite her own pessimism. Maybe that was another reason why they had both gravitated to each other so easily. The yin to her yang.  
“This is my friend, Damian,” Hinata explained, slapping the back of the twenty-something year old standing next to him. “He’s an old war buddy of mine. Helped me during the Zero-Day Breakout in ‘99 and Y2K Crash. I invited him to come along today while I visited you ‘cuz I figured two have a lot in common. Some of his favorite songs are from classic heavy metal bands. And even better, I’ll have someone else to look after you when I’m not here.”  
“Hey, yeah! That’s just what I need, Hinata. More kids looking after my crippled ass while I sit on this couch, waiting to die.”  
After the accident that shattered her hip during filming, Cece had slowed down and tried her best to live a decent life. But it still wasn’t the same: not being able to jump across the rooftops, chase after the bad guys in muscle cars, throw a punch at the stereotypical snide leading villain… Hell, she would have even settled for starting over from square one and gotten a career of being punched in the face, as long as it meant she got to work in the movies again, instead of slowly deteriorating in an old folk’s home…  
* * *  
“Ms. Ahmad! Excuse me, Cecilia!”  
Cece heard a panicked voice call out her name from behind her. She almost made a break for it, but instead she quickly sneered and then turned to face Brad, her “babysitter.” His mouth fell open in confusion as he looked absolutely horrified at the sight of a metal behemoth.  
It was a 1966 Buick Special. Except it had been kitted out so that it looked more like it belonged on the racetrack than in the suburban cul-de-sac neighborhood it was parked in. Its “too-big-to-fit” V8 engine gave the impression that Dr. Frankenstein had built this muscle car to be a real monster. Just hearing the low growl of the thing reminded Cece of a terrible Savannah lion snarling as it spotted its prey. The exterior was a spotless, pearly white that clashed with the evil nature of the rest of the automobile. Despite the intimidating chrome bumpers, the massive 20-inch rugged tires and maniacally smiling grill that threatened to eat any unlucky pedestrian that happened to wander across its path, the car did look as though it might have been something one’s mom would have driven… if they also happened to work at a monster truck rally during the weeknights.  
“Ms. Ahmad!” Brad repeated between heavy breaths, running to catch up. “Where—where are you going!? I wasn’t informed of an off-campus visitation. I need to speak with Mr. Handler to see if this is okay. I wouldn’t want you to be injured in such a dangerous vehicle. Perhaps if you wanted to instead spend the afternoon in the cafeteria, I could arrange—”  
“That won’t be necessary, Bradley.” Cece stood tall with her nose turned up. She did her best impression of a posh British woman as she attempted to distract Brad from the driver. “I’m simply going out to get some fresh air. I’ve told you many times that I’ve been locked away in this establishment for far too long.”  
Brad cocked his head in her direction. He was more confused, but he assumed she was being difficult as usual.  
“Well… but…” he began. “How long will you be gone? I need your… friend to sign off on the visitation form before you two leave.” Bradley’s eyes darted back and forth between Cece and the driver of the car, who stepped out and stood by the passenger side door, no doubt waiting for their getaway. Giving the young man a second glance, Brad now recognised that he was one of Cecilia’s visitors that had been stopping more a lot more frequently.  
Damian was dressed in tan slacks and wearing his favorite purple bomber jacket with Lucky #13 stitched on the front and a few small buttons clipped to the seam. He also had on a pair of cheap, dark sunglasses even though it really wasn’t that bright out that day. The sun was steadily creeping its way up and over the horizon. Still, Cece imagined that he was also playing up the part of wanting to seem inconspicuous in front of the worried caretaker. Damian pulled open the latch to the car and held it open for Cece.  
“Oh, Bradley,” she purred. Cece stepped closer to the anxious nurse. She fixed the collar of his nurse scrubs and brushed away some imaginary lint on his clothes, pretending to be one of those femme fatale characters she used to stand in for during the wideshots. For her, it had always been much more fun to do the true action segments for the films. But Cece got a kick out of lying to this simple man. The coy teasing of your opponent during a drag race, right before the red lights flash to green. Brad was going to have a fit when he eventually found out what Cece really went out to do.  
“I promise I won’t be long, just once around the block. I only want to see the city and feel the wind in my hair.” Cece patted the right side of Brad’s face and then turned to get into the car. She had to leave quickly before Brad noticed that she was definitely not wearing clothes that was suited for a simple afternoon drive.  
Damian went the extra mile to hold out his hand so Cece could hold onto him as she sat down in the passenger seat. Normally, Cece would have swatted the hand away and told him that she didn’t need the help. But seeing as how Brad the nurse was watching, Cece just scrunched up her nose at Damian and took his hand as she sat down in the car. She knew for certain that Damian smirked a bit, knowing that he had gotten her by making her play along as the helpless maiden. After shutting the door, Damian turned back to face Brad and gave a short nod, then turned to get into the driver’s seat.  
As the engine revved to life, Cece brought down the passenger side window and called out to her caregiver, which she hoped would be the last time.  
“By the way, Bradley, I think one of the neighbor’s cats snuck in through my kitchen window again. Left quite the mess. Take care now!” She waved her lucky red bandanna out the window as the tires lurched the car forward and out of the scenic retirement home. They sped past the front gates, disrupting the peaceful silence that was typical for the community of old folks. Some of the other elderly residents craned their necks to look at what the commotion was.  
Brad stood there for a minute considering what kind of mischief an old lady like Ms. Ahmad could get into. After a moment of wondering what he could do, he simply sighed, shrugged and walked back inside the administration building, appreciating the little time he could get not having to worry about the troublemaker.  
* * *  
“What are we doing here, D? And why did you bring your grandma?”  
The others sitting in the circle snickered as they looked away from both Damian and Rudy. They were a group of twenty-something-year-olds, mostly boys and one other woman. Just looking them over, a single word came to Cece’s mind: hooligans. Cece chuckled to herself as she remembered all the times grown-ups had called her such names during her youth and the many more times she had been stopped on the road by a suspicious cop. If any police officer happened to wander across the abandoned mall that they were squatting in, it was a sure thing that they would all have been taken in for questioning, if not arrested on the spot.  
“This is Cece. And she’s gonna be our Outrunner.”  
“Outrunner?” Cece turned to Damian and gave him an uncertain look. Cece thought about it for a moment and said, “In the movies, they just call ‘em ‘the getaway driver’.”  
Damian shrugged. “Less syllables?”  
“Ah.” Cece lifted her chin in understanding. “Gotcha.”  
Rudy stood up from the torn and dirty lawn chair and walked over to the pair, eyeing the elderly woman from top to bottom. Cece could definitely see that he was the paranoid type. The way he seemed to not be able to stay still for a second made Cece think that maybe he was really in a bad way. She thought back to when Damian had told her before they all met that Rudy had had it the roughest after Y2K. He had lost a lot of friends during the war and couldn’t catch a break, no matter how hard he had tried. Looking at the pain in his eyes, Cece could only imagine what was going on in his mind with Hinata and everything else they had planned.  
While Rudy sized up Cece, Damian continued to address the rest of the group members. “I know the original plan was to have Hinata be our driver, but after what happened… with his passing... we don’t have too many other options left. Cece was the best we could do on such short notice. And believe me, she’s the best we got. If it’s any consolation, Hinata would vouch for her. Cece taught him everything he knew.”  
Cece bowed her head in honor of her best friend. The thought of Hinata’s suicide was something that still made her stomach uneasy. She felt a curse word wanting to break free from her lips but thought it would be best to stay on her best behavior while being introduced to strangers. In a lot of ways, Hinata and Cece could not be the people they were before. After the War of the Millenium, Hinata had tried to cover up how much the trauma had been gnawing at him and how emotionally broken he was by helping others through community service. His time back in society had spent trying his best at making others happy. But Cece had learned too late that it wasn’t enough to make happy, let alone satisfied, with his own life.  
“...The Big Game will be in a few weeks, depending on how everything plays out.” Damian went over all the details while Cece had been in her head. “The streets will be a lot emptier with everyone at home watching, and I’m pretty sure only the ‘autos’ will be driving around. With only a couple pedestrians out, Cece here will be able to maneuver through the other cars. Since they’ll all be running on automatic. And I doubt Lazarus has anyone competent enough to squeeze through the side streets without using a computer. It’s just a matter of buying us enough time to gather the info. Remember, we don’t need to sort through all the data about whose medical history is being sold. We just gotta let the public find out about the scheme they’re running. With the headache that we’re gonna be causing them, it won’t take long for people to start asking questions and get lawyers involved.”  
Damian turned to face Cece. “Once the others collect enough info from Lazarus’s basement server, I’ll make the hand off to Rudy while you and I make a break for the car. With any luck, they’ll focus on the two of us speeding out of there and chase the wrong car. Even if they just chase us for a few minutes, that’ll be enough time for everybody else to sneak out of downtown unnoticed. And don’t worry; you won’t have to do any ‘hacking’ or bother with any tech. Just gotta keep us out of reach of the security.”  
Cece nodded. “Got it. Don’t worry; I’ll get us where we need to be. No problem.”  
* * *  
First gear. Second. Third.  
The needle on the speedometer would occasionally crawl its way to the right side of the dash. But more than anything, it behaved like a metronome. Dancing back and forth between zero - when the vehicle made sharp turns through the alleys and parked cars - and then jumping straight to sixty whenever there was a clear stretch of road. The pistons pumped fast and smooth, rising like warhammers and slamming down with just as much fury. Every window that was passed shook violently and cried in fear of being shattered. The flash earthquake ran down the streets and freeways of Los Angeles, and it was being chased by the equally chaotic thunder and lightning of dozens of automated security vehicles.  
“I know that you’re trying to get their attention, Cece. But maybe keep a safe distance away from them. I don’t want them getting ballsy and start taking potshots at the wheels. We’ve still got some distance to cover.”  
Cece gave a devilish grin. “I’d love to see them try.”  
* * *  
There was a lot of blood.  
“Ah shit…” Cece cursed at herself for not taking the bots seriously. Cece looked at her hand and saw the crimson color was beginning to stain the front of her jacket. Already, the blood had turned her jeans a deeper shade and she could feel it starting to pool together at the bottom of her left boot. That’s gonna be annoying. Cece tried to smile to herself since she had still managed to get them to the checkpoint, but her lips were trembling and the sweat on her forehead was a dead giveaway that she was feeling scared.  
Damian ran to the driver side window and looked inside.“Damn!” He began to reach for the door handle but saw that there was none. He used his elbow to clear away the shards of glass that clung to the bottom of the frame and stretched out his arms to grab Cece. “Sorry…” he said in a hushed voice, as he tried to delicately lift her out of the vehicle without having her scrape any small pieces that might still be there.  
Cece was reminded of all the times Bradley or some other orderly had tried to support her because of her hip. Now, it was the same scenario: a young man helping a feeble, old lady get out of trouble. The irony was not lost on her. Cece almost started to laugh at just how cruel life could be, but her laughter quickly turned into coughing and sputtering as her lungs cried out for air.  
“It’s okay. Take it easy. I’ll get you out of here.” Damian tried to keep his voice calm, his joking personality replaced by a calm demeanor with the knowledge that he had to take action. Cece was glad that Damian’s military training had kicked in and he wasn’t scolding her being a dumb ass in the first place.  
“No, it’s not that. It’s…” But Damian already had her in his arms, like a defenseless baby being swaddled by its mother. They could hear Rudy over the micro-comm calling out to them to hurry up and get a move on. Already, the sirens from Lazarus’s personal security were getting louder. Closer.  
“Get me to the bike.”  
“What?!”  
“You heard me! Get me on the bike. I can still ride out of here and you can all finish whatever it is you came to do,” Cece said matter-of-factly.  
“Your leg—!” Damian protested.  
Cece chuckled, then coughed again. “It’s not a car, idiot. I don’t need my leg to drive a motorcycle. Just need you to get me on and get the kickstand up for me. I can worry about stopping later. I’ll get those Lazarus goons off of you and you’ll have enough time to get out of here.”  
Damian glanced between where the sports bike had been stashed away and the old woman bleeding out in his arms. “Dammit…” he said as he took huge, lunging steps toward the motorcycle. He gritted his teeth and balanced the weight of his friend in his arms as he got ready to help her on. He used one hand to tear off the green tarp that covered the Kawasaki ZZR. Its gleaming yellow finish glinted in the low light, giving it a radiant and peaceful aura, even though the dark atmosphere of the ruined building made the idea of escape seem impossible. Cece knew that on any other occasion Damian would have made a sarcastic comment about appreciating the old woman’s taste in bikes but there was no time. All he could do now was follow whatever crazy plan she had in mind to try and finish the job.  
Damian helped steady the bike for Cece as she eased her leg over the side. Taking a few quick moments to start the engine and twisting the throttle handle, Cece then turned to Damian, clapped her hands and held them open. Damian tossed the matching yellow bike helmet and ran off to find a place to lay low. Already he could hear the tires screech and smell the burning of rubber while Cece peeled out. She really hoped that she had enough fuel in her to make it out of this one alive.

* * *  
Bradley was in the kitchen, trying to get down a slice of bread that had been stuck to the ceiling with peanut butter when he heard the music from the radio faded out and the DJs excitedly began to read the news.  
“Ladies and gentlemen, I’m sure you have already heard about the insane story during yesterday’s game. We are in the middle of getting the whole story figured out but Mo and I have some juicy details to share with you all.”  
“Apparently, some daredevil of an old lady named Cecilia Ahmad, aged 68, was caught speeding through the downtown area—”  
“on a pretty sweet motorbike, might I add—”  
“—after stealing thousands of L.A. residents’ data that had been voluntarily given to the biotechnology company, Lazarus. Sources close to the L.A.P.D. are certain Ms. Ahmad had insider help to access Lazarus’s servers. However, this has already caused an even bigger problem for the stock market and the medical world when it was discovered that the genomics company was selling the information to other private companies and insurance groups. It seems, Johnny, those helpful doctors have been doing a lot more than just treating patients at their public hospitals.”  
“This would certainly explain why medical and health insurance rates have gone up dramatically in recent months. so Lazarus and their business partners are being roped into MANY other investigations and court proceedings. I Can’t wait to tune into that Trial and maybe see if I’m owed a little Dough myself…”  
“Ms. Ahmad herself has since been apprehended after literally crashing the final game between our Dodgers and the Red Sox, and is being held at the Metropolitan Detention Center. It’s not clear how Cecilia was able to upload all Lazarus’s dealings while being chased throughout the city. Still, many are saying that she could easily be serving a life sentence—”  
“between you and me, Mo, I don’t think Ms. Ahmad has many more years left in her—”  
“But, maybe the judge could give a little bit of leeway? Seeing how she did help uncover this complex scam that Lazarus was running, anyway? Police are in the process of searching for her accomplices; so far, all attempts have turned up empty handed…”


End file.
